I Went Out to the Woods Today
by sablecain
Summary: One shot Carson ficlet. Answer to a lj challenge to write based or inspired by poetry


Title: I Went Out to the Woods Today

Disclaimer: SGA belongs to MGM/Paramount and a bunch of others. No copyright infringement intended with the use of these characters.

Spoilers: For SGA "Misbegotten"

A/N: On LJ, Tipper issued a challenge to write a story inspired by a poem. Since I haven't written anything in about 6 months I decided to give it a try. The result is this ficlet. Very short but hey, its complete and I did it! I wrote something! Thanks NT for betaing.

I found the poem through Tipper's links, "Paradox" by Jessie B. Rittenhouse. You can read it here:

www (dot) bartleby (dot) com/104/86 (dot) html

The first two lines inspired the fic. I hope you enjoy it. I'm totally nervous about posting something again.

* * *

He ran, weaving and dodging around trees and brush. Branches, like bony hands, reached out and grabbed at him, their skeletal fingers catching his coat, his hair, his skin.

He gasped and panted as his lungs burned and strained to take in more air. His legs ached, heavy and clumsy as he stumbled along. He pressed one hand to the sharp cramp in his side, willing it to ease and knowing that it wouldn't until he stopped...but he couldn't stop.

He knew without a doubt that if he even slowed down it would be over. He'd be found and he would die. He'd tried to stop before, to hide. A cave, a bush, up in a tree but each and every time he'd heard the crashing gait chasing after him. Hunting. He'd heard the whispery voice tainted with amused annoyance.

"You can't hide from me, Carson. There is no way out."

So he ran.

His foot caught on a root, a log, a stone, he didn't know which or what but the gray forest tilted and swayed. He threw his hands forward to catch himself but found his arms refusing to move. He landed hard, his body jarred and bounced once and then rolled. He hadn't seen the incline. Rocks dug at his already abused legs. They bruised his ribs and twisted his arms around him until finally he was still.

Carson blinked up at the trees, towering above him. The ground was soft here, a bed of black ferns. The sky above was gray, the trees, ever reaching towards the sky, they were mere dark shadows in the absence of light. Where had all the color gone?

He tried to move. He tried to push himself up and out of the cold weeds, knowing he couldn't stay here. Not like this. He had to keep going. He didn't have time to rest.

He could hear his own harsh, panicked breathing as the ferns seemed to wrap around him, holding him in place no matter how much he struggled. He heard the footsteps then. Approaching. Crunching as each slow, agonizing step crushed sticks and leaves and stone. They would crush him too.

He heard a low chuckle, a condescending sigh and squeezed his eyes closed. He would not look. He couldn't face it. Not again.

The chuckle turned to a quiet, threatening growl and tremors took over Carson's body. He could feel the presence, hovering over him. So close.

"You're exactly what I need," it whispered, warm stale breath ghosting over his cheek. So close. "Now, lets begin."

Carson screamed, throwing himself up and out of his bed...only to find he couldn't move. Confusion overwhelmed him. He blinked, gasping in fear as his eyes darted to and fro, searching for answers. No. No. No. His fear grew to terror. The medical tent. He glanced to the side and choked. Tears burned his weary eyes. Restraints tore at his bloody wrists.

Michael stood, mere steps away, his arms crossed in front of him. He grinned knowinly.

"Oh God." Carson gagged and swallowed back the bile climbing in his throat. He was still here. Alone. Trapped. At Michael's mercy.

He closed his eyes, not caring as tears rolled down his temples and tickled a path to his ears. Michael had no mercy.

"Did you actually think you could escape?" Michael questioned.

Carson didn't know how Michael knew his dreams. He didn't know how the demon was able to get inside his head either but he could feel him there, pawing painfully through Carson's innermost thoughts, staking a claim and refusing to let go.

Pain flared and Carson felt Michael step closer. His head felt like it was going to explode. Blood began a slow trickle from his nose.

A large hand flattened against his chest and Carson flinched even though the wraith didn't feed. Instead, Michael simply flexed his fingers, the pressure a threat reinforced. The touch burning invisible scars into Carson's skin with the mere knowledge that if he wanted to, at any moment...Michael could feed.

Carson felt Michael shift, leaning closer until the monster's lips actually touched his ear.

"No matter how far you run," the whisper was as loud as a shout.

"No matter where you try to hide..." Fingers threaded through his hair, warping the familiar gesture his mother had once used to comfort him, tainting the memory forever.

Uncontrollable now, Carson's body visibly trembled. He could feel Michael's lips stretch into a smile against his ear.

"I will always find you."

The fingers on his head tightened into a torturous grip, pulling his hair and bringing more tears.

Carson gasped in pain, his eyes flying open. He pulled away one last time, straining against his bonds...and shot straight up in his bed.

He recognized the familiar sounds of the city even through his ragged sobs. His room was lit with the muted, comforting lights of Atlantis. His blankets, twisted and knotted around his legs. Trembling, Carson kicked his feet free and ran a hand over his tear stained face. He was home. He was safe.

Safe. A shiver ran down his spine and he rubbed at his chest, trying to erase the feeling of a large hand pressing into him.

Blinking away fresh tears, Carson forced himself to settle back against his pillows again trying to block out the memories of his time as Michael's prisoner. He was safe now, he reminded himself. On Atlantis. Protected. Michael was dead. He repeated the facts over and over until his breathing settled once again into an even cadence, his heart beat returned t normal and he started to drift off all the while refusing to acknowledge the painful aching sensation of someone else whispering inside his head.

"I will always find you."


End file.
